Sunday, September 28, 2008

I See... a New Calling: the Pre-Nursery Specialist


The scene: an early Sunday morning bishopric meeting of the fictional Happy Valley Last Ward. Bishop Moe Rohnye leans back pensively in the swivel chair behind his desk, staring intently at what must be an important letter from church headquarters. First counselor Juan Derfull is rifling through a stack of crumpled papers on his lap, looking for the day’s sacrament meeting agenda; second counselor Bill Melayter, sitting in the far corner of the cozy bishop’s office, is cupping his hand over his mouth, trying to quietly coach his five-year son via a cellphone to not cram Cheerios up his baby sister’s nose; “it’s not funny!” he whispers harshly. Executive Secretary Max Imumdamage is frantically paging through the Old Testament book of Numbers, looking for something inspirational- how could he have forgotten he was assigned the spiritual thought? Ward Clerk Moe Rallycleen is barely awake but waiting patiently for the meeting to begin- he’s been here since five in the morning creating records for the seven babies that were blessed last week. Lastly, high council advisor Richard Tait is absent- he slept in.

After an opening prayer and Max’s inspirational thought on animal sacrifice, Bishop Rohnye sacredly places a letter on the desk in front of him then leans forward on his chair, as if preparing to speak on an important and serious topic:

“Brethren,” he starts hesitantly, “I have a letter here from church headquarters announcing a fascinating new program that is sure to bless legions of both young parents and ecclesiastically underemployed empty nesters for decades to come. It is truly an inspired program, a sign that the Second Coming is closer than we think. Let us counsel together on how we can implement it as soon as possible.”

The businesslike “click” in the corner of the room is a sign that Bill is finally off the phone- he has finished counseling his son on the appropriate use of Cheerios, and his wife has finally woken up to take over the kids. His attention has been caught with the phrase “new program,” because he is certain the bishop will assign him the task of implementing it.

“Dear Bishops of the Church,

After a thorough review of the burdens that serving in the church can place on faithful leadership and their families, we have felt inspired to create the new calling of “Pre-Nursery Specialist.” A Pre-Nursery Specialist will be asked to hold, calm, and watch over the pre-nursery age children of parents serving in leadership callings during the second and third-hour blocks of Sunday meetings. Special consideration should be given to young families without children and older couples living far away from their grandchildren.”

“Well, brethren, what do you think?” queries the Bishop. “I know my wife could sure use some help with the quadruplets.” First counselor Juan Derfull is thinking about where he lost the sacrament meeting agenda; second counselor Bill Melayter is thinking that whoever is called as a pre-nursery specialist should be skilled at extricating Cheerios from baby noses.

“I would consider Bro. Tait,” proposes the Bishop, “but he is probably too busy saving the free world and taking care of really super-duper important high council matters to waste his time with cute giggly babies who love you no matter what…”

I woke up in a cold sweat. I hate it when dreams that start out pleasant morph into nightmares.


  1. Oh, Bro. Tait, I just love your stories and dreams! I was laughing my head off! However, I would totally take advantage of this pre-nursery calling right now! It's not a bad idea!


  2. Amy,

    I'm glad you enjoyed it! do dreams come true? maybe... someday...